


Thorongil

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Abandoned WIP, April Showers Challenge 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-04
Updated: 2003-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 15:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prologue to a fic I never wrote where Aragorn became king earlier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thorongil

Prolouge:

"My lord steward," he whispered in my ear as I lay upon my death bed, "you must recognize my claim."

He called me his lord, but he always added on my title afterwards. I knew what he was saying. He was being respectful, but he was ultimatly my superior. I had sworn upon my ascension to rule against the day when the king returned. Well, the king had returned and it was now my duty to give over power. I had always known there was something different about Thorongil. He was always so politely mysterious. He wore the star of Numenor and could speak the languages of the elves. He was tall and lordly and master of all that he surveyed. He gave orders and expected them to be obeyed with such natural superiority that all ran to do his will. He was king in all but name and now he wanted to remedy that.

"Denethor will not do it and I cannot come in uninvited."

"'Unlooked for from the North,'" I managed to say, some lines of an old verse. Unnerving what one will remember so close to death.

"You *must*, my lord steward." His voice was ernest and he clutched at my hand, warming it between his own. "I have sent for the signs that must be shown. They will arrive within the day. You must recognize my claim."

"Denethor..." My son. I had raised him too well. He despised his rival, and rightly so. Thorongil desired a hateful steward?

"He is loyal to you. He will do what you say."

That he will. But he will forever curse me for making this his fate. I wetted my lips. "Your name. Your real name."

"Elessar."

So little strength was left in my body, but I raised myself onto my pillows. "I recognize you, Elessar, son of Elendil. Come and be king amonst us."

I collapsed into my bed, but it didn't matter, for it was done. My servants would spred the word and Thorongil, orphan Thorongil, would be king over my people. Denethor would forever hate me.

But it was done.  
   



End file.
